


Insecurities

by Emery



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Massage, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emery/pseuds/Emery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cain is infamous for the number of navigators he's gone through in such a short amount of time, but will Abel only become a repeat of his past? Just when he thinks he's found a partner worth keeping, Cain finds himself anxious that things will only fall apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insecurities

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Set to follow Chapter 3, page 31, based off of Elisetales' theory that the scene between Praxis and Abel is only a nightmare of Cain's.

He awoke from the dream—or was it a nightmare?—praying that there would still be a navigator in bed beside him. Cain was so disoriented and confused, both by the early hours of the morning and the way he so suddenly removed himself from sleep, that he wasn’t sure if Abel was even still assigned to him. It could have been months before Abel or months afterwards, but as long as there was _some_ navigator lying beside him who _trusted_ him—

“Cain?” A quiet voice, husky from disuse, uttered from the other side of the bed. “Are you all right?” Abel sat up slowly, having been disturbed by the jostling of the bed and just as disoriented as Cain at first. He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes and squinted, trying to make out his fighter’s hunched-over form in the dark.

At the sound of Abel’s inquiry, Cain whipped his head around almost too quickly, and he could have cried from relief at hearing the voice of his treasured princess. It was hard to resist the urge to gather his navigator up into his arms in a crushing embrace, but he had to keep his emotions under control. Under no circumstances could he allow Abel to see him like this. The dark served well to hide the tiny grin fighting to curl his lips when he turned to acknowledge Abel’s question.

“I’m fine, Princess. Go back to sleep or you’ll regret it in the morning.”

Abel scooted closer until their shoulders were touching and let his head fall onto Cain before he closed his eyes again.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try to sleep like that,” the fighter deadpanned, though he made no movement to shrug Abel away.

“If you’re not sleeping lying down, I’m not either,” Abel mumbled stupidly in response. Cain did shove him away then, but he joined Abel back down on the pillows soon after and pulled the white-haired man to his chest. For a few minutes that seemed short and agonizing to Cain, there was silence. It didn’t seem as if Abel was breathing deeply enough to have fallen back asleep, but he was completely still within the circle of Cain’s arms, and the fighter was reluctant to disturb him. He tried again and again to keep his eyes shut and allow himself to drift back into the softness of sleep, but he feared the dreams that awaited him and only found himself awake again a few moments later.

Finally, he lost his resolve and had to ask, “Do you like being my navigator, Abel?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Cain worried that they sounded too sentimental or soft. He worried that he had conveyed his worry too clearly and that Abel would pick up on his paranoia. But what worried him more than anything was the uncomfortably long pause between question and answer.

“Abel?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you like being my navigator?” Cain asked more forcefully the second time, his fear quickly manifesting itself as borderline anger.

“What kind of a question is that for the middle of the night? Doesn’t even make any sense—“

“ _Do you?_ ” Cain was becoming more and more exasperated. Damn Abel for not being able to give him a straight answer and for taking so fucking long to answer at all.

Abel turned around the best he could while still being confined by Cain’s tightening grasp and planted a soft kiss against parted lips. “Why wouldn’t I like being paired with the best fighter the Alliance has to offer?” So he was waking up, becoming more coherent. Good. Maybe he and Cain could have an intelligent conversation then. But also bad, because if Abel was fully awake he would remember this conversation in the morning and all of Cain’s insecurities to go along with it.

Nonetheless, Cain smiled at Abel’s answer. It was a good answer, for sure, flattering and unexpected. But for Cain’s anxious mind, it still wasn’t enough. Did Abel mean that he _only_ liked having Cain’s skill as a fighter, but perhaps felt differently about Cain himself? Or was he lumping both aspects of his partner into one, and everything was fine between them?

Just when Cain thought he was satisfied with that answer and he had given Abel an affectionate squeeze, a part of his dream played through his head for what seemed to be the millionth time.

“I hate him.”

Abel’s voice resounded loud and clear, bouncing around Cain’s skull and leaving bruises on his psyche with every hard collision.

“You don’t hate me, do you?” The words slipped out before Cain could stop himself from sounding anymore ridiculous.

Now, Abel knew without a doubt that something was up. It wasn’t like Cain to ask questions like this, and he could feel the tension building in his fighter’s muscles. He didn’t expect Cain to be himself in the middle of the night, but this seemed a little much.

“I don’t hate you, Cain. How long have your muscles been knotted up like this? You won’t be able to fight well if you’re all stiff—“

Cain shoved Abel’s nimble, prying fingers away despite the fact that they felt so good against his aches and pains. “Starting to sound like my mother. Just stop.”

It wasn’t going to be that easy to get Abel away, though, not when he had already decided that he wanted to give Cain a massage. “How about you just lie still?” The navigator’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room already, and for the most part he was able to smoothly maneuver himself so that he was perched above Cain, whom he finally convinced to lay face down.

Thin hands and talented fingers that could steer the most complicated of ships with ease kneaded repeatedly into the masses of muscle in Cain’s back and shoulders, loosening the tight spots and relieving the pain of the knots that had worked their way there over time. Abel relished the little noises that Cain made, each tiny hiss of pleasure and grunt of satisfaction, and he savored the contrast of hard muscle beneath supple, velvety skin.

But Cain couldn’t be appeased.

“You sure you don’t wanna navigate for someone else? The Tiberius fighter or something? Because you know, it’s really best if you back out now rather than wait—“

Abel slammed his palm down flat onto Cain’s back, releasing frustration he wasn’t even aware he had been holding. “Dammit, Cain, do you think I’d want to do something like _this_ to that fighter? I don’t even _know_ him. Stop talking nonsense and just relax, for Mother’s sake!”

He continued the massage with added vigor, as if to prove his point, and ignored Cain’s pained protests. One way or another he would work these knots out, just like he would work out his beloved’s fears and insecurities. Sure, Abel had no idea what happened to those other navigators, but he didn’t plan on going anywhere. He would find out the truth someday, and if it meant that he had to suffer the same fates as the previous navigators, so be it.

Cain did nothing but groan and protest under the harsh treatment of Abel’s massage turned punishment, but he was secretly glad. Abel wouldn’t act like this if he hadn’t been serious about his answers. For now, Cain’s nightmares were only that—nightmares. There was nothing to fear. Abel wouldn’t leave him. He would never hate him. And he sure as hell wouldn’t go crying to that damned Praxis. Cain trusted Abel and his answers for the moment, and he let his navigator’s massage lull him to sleep.

“Thanks, Princess. I owe you one,” he muttered half-coherently with a tired grin on his face.

Abel only huffed, though the smile that tugged on his lips when Cain finally fell back into slumber was a genuine one.

And for the rest of that night, at least, there were no more nightmares.


End file.
